fication of the gayer visitor, she related odd experiences of her
public life, with rare power of description and admirable flashes of
humor. She discussed the latest book with some of the small _litterateurs_
with whom she was infested; or talked knowingly of the last picture, or
the newest opera, faint echoes from which might elude the grim blockaders
on the coast.

Mr. Davis spoke little, seeming to find a refreshing element in her
talk, that--as she pithily said of some one else--was like tea, that
cheers but not inebriates. Occasionally he clinched an argument, or
gave a keener point to an idea by a short, strong sentence.

After all had partaken of the cup of tea handed round informally, Mr.
Davis retired to his study and once more donned his armor for battle
with the giants without and the dwarfs within his territory.

These informal "evenings" began to grow popular with the better class
of Virginians, and tended to a much more cordial tone between the
citizens and their chief. They were broken by bi-monthly "levees," at
which Mr. and Mrs. Davis received "the world and his wife."

But the formal "levee" was a Washington custom and smacked too much of
the "old concern" to become very popular, although curiosity to see the
man of the hour and to assist at an undress review of the celebrities
of the new nation, thronged the parlors each fortnight. A military band
was always in attendance; the chiefs of cabinet and bureaux moved about
the crowd; and generals--who had already won names to live
forever--passed, with small hands resting lightly on their chevrons,
and bright eyes speaking most eloquently that old truism about who best
deserve the fair.

More than once that winter General Johnston moved through the
rooms--followed by all eyes and calling up memories of subtle strategy
and hard-won victory. Sometimes the burly form of Longstreet appeared,
ever surrounded by those "little people" in whom he delighted; and the
blonde beard of Hood--whose name already began to shine with promise of
its future brilliance--towered over the throng of leading editors,
"senior wranglers" from both houses of Congress, and dancing men
wasting their time in the vain effort to talk.

But not only the chosen ten thousand were called. Sturdy artisans, with
their best coats and hands scrubbed to the proper point of cleanliness
for shaking the President's, were always there. Moneyed men came, with
speculation in their eyes, and lobb